Silent Addiction
by Fenrir's Daughter
Summary: Post World Race, pre AcceleRacers, narrative, Kurt's point of view. Kurt can quit any time he wants. He just doesn't want to.


A/N: So, I don't know, I just wrot this because it's all I have inspiration for right now. It's a onseshot, so please don't ask me to continue, but we need at least _some_ drug abuse in this section. Fenrir's Daughter: doing her part to round out the selection since 2006.

* * *

If he knew…it would only prove to him what a pathetic person I am. But I'll keep doing it, because it's the only thing that takes away the pain.

He hates me. My own little brother hates me. I know I deserve it, after all I've done. First, that Zed 36 fiasco, and then I abandoned him. Way to go, Kurt; way to show your brotherly love. I abandoned my brother because I'm a fucking coward. A superficial little coward who only cares about my own image. My own problems, my own pain.

My own addictions…

After it all fell apart and Markie went down, I went down right with him; it was just more subtle so no one was able to tell. My brother was going to prison because of my screw ups, and I was feeling sorry for myself. I went clubbing a lot; I always had, but I found myself under the strobe lights more and more. It was a great way to distract myself from the real problems, getting drunk, dancing all night and going home with strange women…and then, later, strange men.

Yeah, that's right, strange men. I prefer guys. You got a problem with that? Ask me if I care.

I met Shirako at a club where he deejayed and we hit it off right away. Things got pretty serious, and I was happy. I wasn't just fooling around anymore; I was in love. I started drinking a lot less, and as soon as I was cleaned up enough he introduced me to the other Teku.

Boy, was I shocked to see Vert again. I almost forgot about all that World Race crap, and it just came crashing back at me. I had trouble looking Vert in the eye for a while. Between Vert bagging on me for being Zed 36 (I know he was just kidding, but it still bothered me) and my mother giving me guilt trips over not protecting Markie, I just couldn't deal. And I couldn't even go to my usual clubs anymore because Shirako deejayed at most of them and was almost always there keeping an eye on me. So I started going to raves instead.

Lemme tell you something: no matter how clean and sober you try to stay at a rave, sooner or later, someone's going to slip something in your drink, so you might as well partake. I didn't drink anymore, but chemically speaking, there was _lots_ of fun to be had. And that's when I started using.

Hey, whoa, don't give me that look. It's not like I go on huge binges or anything, man, I only do enough. Every so often, I'll make some dumb excuse and lock myself in, but I only do enough. Enough to get by, but not enough so they can tell something's wrong. Just enough.

It's been about a year and a half since that first hit; Markie finished his sentence and joined the Metal Maniacs with Taro. Real surprise there. I'm a Teku, so he goes straight to the Teku's biggest rival. Now he and Taro both hate me. The way they look at me, like I'm the lowest of the low—I mean, Taro looks at everyone like that, but from Markie, it says a lot more. They're not wrong about me being scum, but it still hurts.

Racing was always a big high for me, but for a while now, it's taken a back seat; it doesn't take away the pain. I know I'm killing myself slowly, but I don't think I care anymore.

The tourniquet pinches tight around my arm, and the needle pierces the skin in the crook of my elbow. It hurts, but after a moment, I don't feel a thing. A momet after that, and I'm in ecstasy. Just like that, it all disappears; the pain, the disappointment, the friends I know I'm letting down. There's only me and the heroin flowing through my veins and polluting my body. The bathroom starts to sway and gets hazy and I stretch out on the floor. No one knows I'm locked in here, but so what? What's the worst that could happen? I could die, but would that really be so terrible?

As darkness blooms on the edge of my sight, consciousness leaving me, I whisper softly into the cold and empty night air.

"I'm so sorry Markie…"

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A/N: Of course he's not dead, silly; then how would there have been an AcceleRacers? It's before then. Could you imagine, though, Kurt lecturing his brother about how he's ruining his life, all the while completely strung out on smack?! Interesting story possibilities, if you ask me, but it's still seperate from the mutants among us stufff I normally write.


End file.
